


story and song

by everqueen



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, don't wanna clutter the tags too much so i'll put more detail in the summary for each chapter, like stress baking and magnus eating things he shouldn't and the twins singing, mostly it's goof stuff, oh also there's one about taako adopting angus, the major character death is for the stolen century one but that's it, this is a collection of smaller tumblr fics that never got on ao3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:13:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23399020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everqueen/pseuds/everqueen
Summary: Anonymous asked: I love that, canonically, nobody from the bureau ever met Klaarg. Like they could be in the middle of Carey and Killian's reception or having a candlenights party or something and this big fuck off bugbear shows up looking pissed as hell and probably carrying a weapon and everybody assumes the battle position ready to defend themselves, and next thing they just hear from the back "it's my hugbear!!" and Magnus runs up and full body hugs it
Relationships: Angus McDonald & Taako, Barry Bluejeans/Lup, Bureau of Balance & IPRE Crew | Starblaster Crew, Kravitz/Taako (The Adventure Zone), Lup & Taako (The Adventure Zone), Magnus Burnsides & Merle Highchurch & Taako, The Director | Lucretia & Taako
Comments: 11
Kudos: 40





	1. it's klaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarg on the moonbase

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: I love that, canonically, nobody from the bureau ever met Klaarg. Like they could be in the middle of Carey and Killian's reception or having a candlenights party or something and this big fuck off bugbear shows up looking pissed as hell and probably carrying a weapon and everybody assumes the battle position ready to defend themselves, and next thing they just hear from the back "it's my hugbear!!" and Magnus runs up and full body hugs it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is fucking hysterical how did klaarg even get on the moonbase

Avi rubs at his eyes, bleary from the steady intake from his ever-present flask. He just has another half hour before the Director said he can go join the first day of summer party that taako decided to throw just for the hell of it. She’s been training all three Reclaimers pretty hardcore recently, since they came back from Refuge, but she’s allowed this break. Carey, swinging by the hanger bay on her way to the suite, told him that even the Director came.

He smiles, thinking of Refuge and Ren, but she couldn’t come tonight. He leans against the wall, humming Johann’s latest tune and wondering if his boyfriend is also there and jamming tonight. Probably. Everyone there but ol Avi.

He’s jarred out of his thoughts by the sound of a sphere deploying.

“What?” he says to no one, peering through the haze of alcohol towards it. “There aren’t any Bureau members planetside?”

He doesn’t have long to wonder, as the sphere returns rapidly. He hooks it into the docking mechanism on autopilot, staring curiously at the door.

A fuck-off _huge_ bugbear steps out.

“Oh shit,” Avi says, backing away slowly, hands up. He doesn’t have any of his weapons, although the bugbear can’t say the same. He’s got a huge morningstar, easily the size of Avi’s whole torso, slung casually over his shoulder. “F-fuck,” Avi stammers. “Um–”

The bugbear speaks. “Hello, friend!”

Avi stares.

“Do you mind telling me where I could find Taako?” the bugbear asks, entirely pleasant and entirely blowing Avi’s mind. “He’s my good friend, my _best_ friend, one might say, and I heard tell that he was throwing a bit of shindig tonight?” he lifts a small bag that Avi hadn’t noticed, being fixated on the fuck-off huge morningstar. “I brought some _very_ nice oolong that I’m _so_ excited to try.”

“Um,” Avi says eloquently, trying to think. “One moment, please?”

“Of course.”

It takes Avi’s half-drunk fingers a few tries, but he eventually gets his stone out and calls the Director.

“Yes, Avi?” she says, only the slightest wobble in her voice to indicate the vast amount of wine she’s been drinking all night, according to Johann. Behind her, Avi can faintly hear the Reclaimers chanting for someone to chug, and the distinctive tones of Johann, who broke out his fiddle for the night.

“There’s, uh, there’s a… I’m sorry, what was your name, dude?”

“It’s Klaarg.”

“Klaarg? He’s a bugbear?”

“A bugbear?” the Director, unflappable as she is, almost sounds surprised.

“Oh shit!” someone yells, 

There’s some banging on the other end of the line and the Director, somewhat more distantly, going “Magnus. This is another nightmare scenario.”

“Heeeey, Avi!” Magnus yells through the stone. He sounds almost as drunk as when he drank that potion from Pringles. “I’m real fucked up! Wink!”

“I can’t see you, my guy,” Avi says, grinning. “Why did you take the Director’s stone?”

“Give it back or she’s gonna magic missile your ass off the moonbase!” Killian yells in the background.

“I thought you said a bugbear was here!” Magnus says, apparently fighting someone back as he talks. “It’s my hugbear buddy!”

“Is that my friend Magnus?” Klaarg asks, suddenly way closer to Avi than Avi would prefer. “Hello, Magnus!”

“Klaarg!!” Magnus yells.

“Yo, what’s up homie?” Taako calls, his usual tones made more languid by the sheer quantity of alcohol they’ve all been drinking.

“There’s Taako!” Klaarg says, positively beaming and also showing Avi just how many sharp teeth he has. He looks at Avi, apparently trying for puppy dog eyes. “Can you take me to him?”

“Aw, fuck it,” Avi says. He glances at the stone. “Director, can I get off a bit early?”

“Well shit,” the Director says eloquently, having apparently reclaimed her stone from Magnus. “Why not.”

“Yolo!” Merle shouts in the distance.

“I can’t believe you used that almost correctly, old man!” from Magnus.

“Something like that,” the Director says. “Avi,” she says, her usual gravitas-laden Director tones in full force. “We’re partying hardcore all night long, baby. Get down here. Bring the bugbear.”

“Fuck yeah,” Avi says, taking a long swig from his flask and grinning up and up at the bugbear. “C’mon, big buddy, let’s go.”

“Oh, wonderful,” the bugbear says, clapping a thick, heavy arm around Avi’s shoulders, nearly knocking him to the ground. “Lead the way, friend!”


	2. the reclaimers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: after like 2 or 3 missions, the boys were banned from getting drunk on the moon to celebrate victories, because every time without fail somebody new to the bob would come up to them once they were pretty sloshed and ask if they were "the reclaimers" and all three of them would sing i would walk 500 miles in haunting rowdy unison and please retire this goof boys it's been MONTHS and every new recruit is terrified of what this means

“Oh wow, is it them?”

“It’s gotta be them, right?” the elf says, shaking her friend. “They just got back from _another_ successful mission!”

“Okay, be chill, be chill!” the orc hisses.

“Hope y'all ready to fuckin party!” Merle shouts, half-empty tankard in hand. He’s already gone through seven, judging by the pile at the long, loud table in the middle of the dining dome. His companions are also, in the words of the intimidating Madam Director, “pretty goddamn drunk already, huh?” The human, Magnus Burnsides, radiates a sort of homey charm even when sloshed out of his mind, and is currently attempting to spin his axe on one hand without cutting it off. The elegant elf egging him on must be Taako, draped over four chairs and still half on the ground, sipping at his fifth mojito and lazily cheering on Magnus.

“You ask,” the elf says.

“What? No!”

“You gotta!”

“ _You_ go ask!”

More muffled discussion, and then they resolve to go up together, the elf vibrating with nervous excitement.

“Um, excuse me?” the elf squeaks when they get close enough to the table.

Merle, his shirt halfway off, grins from his power stance atop the table. Taako offers a languid upside down wave, while Magnus rockets to his feet, towering above them. “Hail and well met, new friends!”

“Hi,” the orc takes over smoothly when the elf goes bright red. “Are you the Reclaimers?”

“The Reclaimers, you say?” Magnus booms, a grin stealing over his face. Identical grins grow on both Merle and Taako, and all three of them together start yelling, “ ** _I WOULD WALK FIVE HUNDRED MILES AND I WOULD WALK FIVE HUNDRED MORE_** –”

The raucous singing, if you can call it that, continues as the elf and the orc stumble away, confused and shaking. The lithe dragonborn, Carey Fangbattle, one of the star regulators, swings down next to them from the rafters (”Do domes even _have_ rafters?” the orc whispers) as a small human boy also joins them.

“Sorry about that,” the human boy says with a warm smile. “They’re just kinda… Like That. Madam Director is gonna ban them from drinking, we think.”

“She can try,” the dragonborn snorts, and slaps a small badge bearing a question mark curled around a tankard. “Welcome to the club.”


	3. magnus please stop eating things you shouldn't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: as a fandom it's been mostly accepted that magnus has vored other things that shouldn't be eaten and that taako probably owns half a lush store in bath products, so how long would it take before magnus accidentally (or on a dare) eats one of taako's soaps or bath bombs? would it happen during bob time? did they have lush products during stolen century? discuss

**Twosun**

Magnus Burnsides, twenty years old and somehow on the shortlist for the Starblaster mission, has a legendary reputation for eating whatever someone will pay him five gold for. The whole fantasy Mountain Dew-ramen-eggs incident is still whispered about in the halls of the IPRE.

Taako and Lup, also on the short list for the Starblaster mission, plan to see exactly how far this will go.

They’re being forced to live together, now, the three humans, the two elves, the dwarf, and the gnome, their captain. A test, the high-ups claim, to see if they’ll be okay living in such limited living quarters. Thus far, the Bluejeans man hasn’t come out of the lab, the writer jumps whenever someone moves within five feet of her, and the captain doesn’t address anyone without tacking on their full name and rank.

This leaves the twins, who are totally fine, natch, the alarmingly crunchy dwarf Merle, who seems high most of the time and probably has, as Lup puts it, “the dankest fantasy weed”, and the aforementioned human garbage compactor.

“He’s only a human, Ko,” Lup says as Taako sprinkles yet more hot sauce into the cupcake mix. “They don’t even have constitution bonuses.”

Taako shrugs as he dumps an entire bottle of fantasy Worcestershire sauce in the mix. “And yet he’ll eat any floating detritus that wanders into his field of vision if someone waves a gold piece at him.”

“At least five,” Magnus hollers from the tiny sitting room, where he’s tossed himself over the entire couch. Merle is there too, sprawled out on the floor with a weirdly active ficus twining itself through his beard. “Hey dwarf, if I eat whatever it is they’re making in there, will I die?”

“I dunno.”

“Ya gonna heal me at least?”

Merle, still lying down, shrugs unconcernedly. “I’ll check on my spell slots.”

“Boooo,” Magnus says loudly. “ Who knows if you can even heal anyway.”

The dwarf shrugs, unconcerned.

Magnus rolls his eyes. “Hey Creesh! _Hey Creesh!_ ”

The writer pokes her head in from the narrow, cramped hallway, shoulders hunched as always, scribbling in a journal, also as always. She regards her fellow human warily, taking in the smirking twins in the kitchen and the weird dwarf on the floor with a flickering glance. “Are you… talking to me?”

“Yeah!”

“That’s not my name.”

“Nope!” Magnus says cheerfully, sitting up and thrusting out a hand to her. “C’mon, get in on this bet!”

Lucretia’s hands flip to a new journal page without her looking, although she doesn’t move otherwise. “What bet?”

“Magnus is gonna die here in a minute,” Taako hollers from the kitchen, popping the lethal cupcakes into the oven.

“Merle is right here!”

“Spell slots, man,” the dwarf says, still focused on the ficus.

“Aw, what!”

“Besides,” Lup adds. “It’s not like you’re gonna _die_ any time soon. You’re what, a baby still?”

Magnus sits up at that, indignant. “I’m twenty goddamn years old!”

“Like I said, a baby.”

They bicker back and forth, Merle chiming in with the occasional gross joke, Lucretia edging further into the room little by little until she’s perched on the edge of the couch, still writing. Eventually, the scientist, who the twins and Magnus have taken to calling Barold, wanders in from the lab, taking a seat when Lucretia summarizes the bet. The cupcakes don’t take long in the oven, and Taako pulls them out with appropriate fanfare.

Captain Davenport walks in just as Magnus is approaching his mouth with the cupcake.

“Security Officer Burnsides, what are you doing?” he asks warily, taking in the whole rest of the crew eagerly watching the human. “What’s in those cupcakes?”

Magnus Burnsides, twenty years old and still without fear, smiles wide. “Well Cap’nport,” he says brightly, bouncing towards the gnome. “Taako made us the most _delicious_ cupcakes. Why don’t you try them with me?”

Davenport, deeply aware of his tenuous status in the eyes of his probable crew, still has a fully functioning sense of self-preservation. He glances around, seeing each of them with their eyes fixed on him. He comes back around to Magnus, offering him death in a cupcake and grinning.

“Dav-en-port.” A quiet chanting comes up from the couch. Everyone’s eyes swing around to Lucretia, who immediately blushes a deep scarlet and snaps her mouth shut. Merle, not to be dissuaded, takes it up.

“Dav-en-port,” he says from the floor, grinning behind his beard.

And now they all take it up, even Barry and Lucretia, albeit quietly. “Dav-en-port. DAV-EN-PORT! DAV-EN-PORT! _DAV-EN-PORT! **DAV-EN-PORT!”**_

The gnome sighs and snatches it from Magnus’s hand before anyone can blink. He stares the human dead in the eyes and takes an enormous bite out of it.

There is utter silence.

“Hmmm,” Davenport says into the quiet. “Tangy. Not bad, Science Officer Lup and Navigation Officer Taako.”

He turns on his heel and walks out of the room, still chewing.

And now everyone’s eyes zero in on Magnus, who in turn stares at the other cupcake still in his hand. He blinks once, twice.

And eats it.

And.

Well.

Lup was right.

Humans do not have a bonus to constitution.

Merle uses up most of his spell slots that night.

At least Taako paid up the five gold.

Eventually.

As they watch the Hunger devour their home plane, Taako blinks a few times and says, hoarsely, still holding onto his sister with a grip as tight as life itself, “At least that _fucking toilet_ is gone forever.”

**Cycle 26**

“Taaaaaakooooo,” Magnus yells, banging on the twins’ door. “I’m booooooored.”

The door swings open of its own volition, revealing Taako sprawled on his bed, mostly hidden among the clothes and magical debris and pillows pilfered from various crew members. Lup is gone, having taken Barry on a “science mission”, whatever that means. Taako barely looks up from where he’s lying, idly transmuting his finger nail polish different colors, eyes closed. “Yeah, join the fuckin party my dude.”

Even Davenport, still guarded even after a quarter of a century, admits that this is a dreary cycle. There’s constant rain and few people, and those don’t take kindly to strangers. Everything is gloomy and gray, save for the brilliant decorations on the Starblaster. They decided to go with pink and blue this cycle, and for some reason Taako has gotten a Thing for sticking unnecessary bows everywhere, when he’s not slumped on his bed in utter boredom.

“What’cha doin?” Magnus asks, flopping on the bed too.

“Nothin. You want me to change your nail polish colors?”

“Nah,” Magnus says after a moment of reflection, splaying out his fingers, examining the deep red and sparkly accent nail. They flop together on the bed, Magnus staring up at the ceiling, Taako still changing his nail polish with his eyes closed, until Magnus rouses and stares around at the detritus on the bed. “Hey, Ko?”

“Hmm?”

“I got those constitution bonuses after cycle, uhhh—” he pauses and then hollers “Hey _Creesh_!”

Distantly, they hear Lucretia respond from the kitchen. “What?”

“What cycle did I get those constitution bonuses in?”

“Cycle 14, with the witch and the disgusting pickles!”

“Thanks!” He hops off the bed.

“Where are you going with this?” Taako asks, opening his eyes a fraction.

“You got those cake things in the bathroom, right?” Magnus says, already out the door.

“Don’t you dare!” Taako hollers, sitting up as Magnus rushes for the bathroom. “That’s _fantasy Lush, Maggie!_ I will Magic Missile your ass into next cycle!”

Magnus is already in the bathroom, a startled Lucretia thrown over one shoulder. She managed to keep hold of one journal when Magnus grabbed her, and is now resting comfortably, although she pokes his head until he rotates her so that she can watch. Magnus hums, paging through Taako’s products with the air of a discerning fantasy farmer’s market customer, a grin splitting his face when he alights on what might be a bath bomb, or might just be one of Merle’s weird granola bar things that no one else will eat.

It’s hard to tell.

“Do it, Magnus,” Lucretia says from his shoulder.

“Don’t you fuckin dare!” Taako yells from the door, already aiming his wand.

“I’ll give you five gold,” Lucretia says, pen at the ready.

“I’m in,” Magnus says, and pops it in his mouth whole.

It’s definitely a bath bomb.

Witch and pickles notwithstanding, Magnus’s improved constitution is still not enough.

**Cycle 59**

They get a hold of the Light of Creation early, that year.

Barry, bored out of his mind, sticks it in the microwave, notebook at the ready because, as he says, “It’s not science unless you write it down.”

Barry dies early, that cycle.

Magnus, standing just outside the blast radius, picks up the newly microwaved Light of Creation, shrugs, and pops it in his mouth.

Magnus, the real Magnus, also dies early that cycle.

The creature calling itself Magnus, with the entire Light of Creation inside it, requires the whole rest of the crew to take down.

It’s not a very good cycle, as cycles go.

**Cycle 80**

They’ve all grown in so many ways, during their time on the Starblaster.

And yet, Magnus refuses to stop putting things in his mouth that really shouldn’t be in his mouth.

“All the constitution in the world won’t save you if you eat that,” Davenport says, with the world-weary sigh of someone who knows it’s a lost cause, and yet will not stop trying, despite it all.

“It’s safe to eat, Merle said!” Magnus protests, still holding the fruit.

“Only once,” the dwarf calls from where he’s tending the fire.

The three instinctively wait for some joke from the twins, or even Lucretia’s dry humor, before they remember how they’re the only ones left.

“Ready your spell slots, old man,” Magnus says, staring down the innocuous purple fruit in his hand.

Since it’s a fruit, it doesn’t stare back, although after cycle 54, Magnus can never be too careful.

Davenport just sighs again. “Just hold on, Magnus, okay? For one minute?”

It’s only the deep-seated respect for his captain and friend that restrains Magnus from chomping down then and there. He exchanges a grin with Fisher, who somehow returns it without a face. Fortunately, Davenport doesn’t keep him waiting long.

“Okay,” the gnome says. “If you must.”

And he holds up the fantasy camera.

When the rest of the crew reset, they all break down in laughter at those fantasy polaroids. Even Fisher, without a face, seems to be laughing in his tank, a friendly tendril snaking out to rest on his shoulder.

It’s the lightest moment that whole cycle.

**The Bureau of Balance, Faerun**

Magnus Burnsides, thirty-one years old and somehow one of the star Reclaimers for the Bureau of Balance, has a legendary reputation for eating whatever someone will pay him five gold for. The whole fantasy Cheetos-frosting-bacon debacle is still whispered about, in the halls of the BoB.

“C’mon, anybody want a cupcake?” Taako asks, wiggling the tray enticingly in the Bureau cafeteria. The other bureau members squint at him suspiciously, eyeing the way Magnus and Merle are giggling behind him and the way Taako is just barely holding it together, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. “I’m a star chef, you know they’re gonna be goooood!”

Madam Director walks into the cafeteria, eyes on the papers in her hands. Taako’s ears perk up as Magnus and Merle’s giggles rise to full on cackles that they desperately try and stifle behind their hands.

“Oh Madam Director,” Taako says in a singsong voice, waving a cupcake at her. “Try a cupcake?”

Lucretia looks up, face expressionless. “Oh, for me?” she asks, snatching it from his hand. “Taako, you shouldn’t have.”

Staring Taako directly in the eyes, Lucretia takes an enormous bite out of it. “Hmm,” she says as the cafeteria goes deathly silent, the three Reclaimers pale and shook. “Tangy. Not bad.”

She scoops up a pre-made salad as everyone watches in shock, and then, after a beat, takes another cupcake from the tray in Taako’s trembling hands. With a casual nod, she turns and walks out of the room.

Silence, still.

Magnus exchanges looks with the other two Reclaimers and pops one of their death cupcakes into his mouths.

Merle, and all the other healers employed by the Bureau, use up most of their spell slots that night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this isn't from a tumblr ask but it IS about taako and lucretia having complicated feelings post s&s

It’s late, again.

Taako jolts awake, panting, only half aware of the sleeping reaper at his side. The nightmare is foggy, tonight, taunting him with half a memory of pain and terror. He grunts, shaking his head from side to side as if to dislodge the dissipating dream. It does fade, leaving only the terror and sense of Wrongness in its wake.

He gets out of bed without waking Kravitz, clutching his favorite knitted blanket around his shoulders (a gift from Istus, one Candlenights. It’s the softest thing he owns, which is saying something). He wanders, still not quite awake, needing… someone. Bones is great and all, wonderful even, but sometimes an elf just wants some weirdo from his cobbled together hell century forged family to chase those ol sleepy-time terrors away.

He doesn’t really pay attention to where his feet are taking him, vaguely aware that he’s at the portal room. Lup and Barry had set it up, a direct non-scythe line to every member of their family. He goes through a portal, trusting his feet will take him to someone who will give him the kind of care he needs.

“Oh fuck,” are the first words Lucretia hears. She looks up, wincing at her neck and shoulders complaining after hours of being bent over her work, to see a sleep-mussed Taako slumped against the doorframe of her office, half-heartedly glaring at her.

“Taako?” she asks, too surprised to let the usual guilt settle in. “What are you doing here? Gods, it must be—”

“Fuck all o clock, yeah,” he grumbles. “What are _you_ doing here? Not that I uhhhhh, fucking care, but don’t humans need sleep or whatever?”

Now that he mentions it, she realizes she _is_ very tired, which is the only explanation for why she allows herself to fall into a century’s worth of habit again, i.e., fucking with the twins. “Nonsense,” she deadpans. “Humans only need to sleep once every month.”

He snorts and comes further into the room, watching her left hand automatically fill out reports even as she watches him, her right hand propping up her drooping head. “Why _are_ you still up?”

“It’s my office,” she points out. “That you’re in.”

“Accident.”

“On the goddamn moon.”

“Coincidence.”

“Why are _you_ up?” she challenges, even though they both know why.

He snorts again and glances around the room. His eyes narrow as he surveys their positions relative to each other, and he pushes two of her chairs together with a wave of his hand. Before Lucretia can blink, he’s transmuted them into an exact copy of her desk. She raises one eyebrow as he settles into an elegant copy of her chair. The other eyebrow joins it as he stares her directly in the eyes, smirking, and adds another cushion, elevating himself ever so slightly above her.

She can’t stop her own smile as she adds to her own seat, rising slightly above him.

His eyes narrow and another pillow joins his, bumping him up again.

They go back and forth in utter silence, eyes locked on each other’s until their heads brush the ceiling at the same time.

They’re perilously perched on a frankly ridiculous number of pillow each, Lucretia’s pen and notes far below her, Taako’s blanket having slipped mostly off about halfway up.

They stare each other down, expressionless.

And then Taako’s mouth twitches.

So does Lucretia’s.

And then they’re laughing, deep raucous belly laughs that have them clutching at their sides, and then, in unison, losing their balance and tumbling down, pillows cascading around them.

Fortunately, some of the pillows hit the ground first, because they’re both laughing too hard to cast anything. They end up on the floor against each other, side to side, laughing even harder as pillows rain down on them. Taako recovers enough to thwap Lucretia with one a few times, weakly, before he gives in to the laughter again.

They slowly quiet, shoulders and sides and heads touching, staring up at the ceiling. Lucretia has her hands clasped over her stomach, not bothering to wipe the tears from her eyes, but she lets one fall towards Taako. His hand is at his side, the other under his head, and he doesn’t pull away when their fingers brush.

“You know, Creesh,” he says quietly, not looking at her, and now her eyes well up again, for a different reason. “Lup wasn’t the only sister I lost that day.”

She swallows thickly around the lump in her throat and turns her hand, seeking his. He turns his hand too and they slip together, fingers tight against each other. They’re both still staring up at the ceiling.

“I know,” Lucretia says finally. It’s all she can manage.

They’re silent again, but it’s a gentler silence, this time. For the first time in a long, long while, the air isn’t charged with pain and guilt and heartbreak and betrayal. 

For the first time in a long time, they simply are.

“Well,” Taako says finally, when slivers of sunlight start slipping across the ceiling. He sits up and stretches, and squeezes her hand once, so quickly she might have almost imagined it. “I got the one back already. And you know how Taako’s a completionist.”

He leaves without another word, and a few moments later she hears the buzz of the portal activating.

A few moments more, and she realizes he left her with two dozen pillows and a transmuted second desk to clean up.

Lying alone on the sunlit floor, strewn with pillows and papers, Lucretia laughs.


	5. starblaster: the musical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: when they applied for the mission, taako and lup specified that they like to sing while they cook and davenport thought some classic elven melodies might boost morale in the crew. every morning he's woken up by the sound of taako and lup making breakfast and belting out dirrty by fantasy christina aguilera and it's too late to ask them to stop because magnus and merle have already started to sing along and they all dance to it now too. so it kind of worked?

**Twosun**

“Oh, just letting you know, captain,” Lup calls from where the twins are supervising the loading of, frankly, a ridiculous amount of food into the Starblaster’s kitchen. The twins had declared jurisdiction over all foodstuffs on board, including Taako throwing out Science Officer Bluejeans’ instant ramen, which the human was not happy about.

“Yes, Lup?” Davenport asks as patiently as he can, eyeing the boxes of fresh vegetables being pushed up the ramp by a put-upon tiefling. “Is all this really necessary?”

“Not like we don’t have the space,” the elf counters. “You’re gonna be real happy when you’re homesick for _anything_ from here when we’re a month out and we break out these bad boys.”

“Tomatoes?”

“Yep!”

“I suppose,” Davenport sighs, watching Taako juggling lemons. “You wanted to tell me something?”

“Oh yeah.” Lup snatches a lemon out of Taako’s routine, for which her brother adjusts without missing a beat.

“Hey cap!”

“Hi, Taako.”

“Gonna avoid _all_ the scurvy with these babies!”

“That’s great, Taako.”

“As I was saying,” Lup comes in, rolling the lemon between her fingers. “Taako and I tend to sing in the kitchen.”

“Sing,” Davenport repeats, ignoring his own love of singing in favor of staring at the elves. “Do you mean, classic elven melodies or something of that sort?”

Lup starts laughing, which is never a good sign, but Taako leans over with a shit-eating grin, still juggling. “Oh, for sure, captain,” he says, barely smothering his own giggles. Davenport wonders if he thinks he’s being subtle. “For sure for sure. Classic elven melodies, you know the type.”

“Right,” Davenport says, reciting their astronomical test scores and astonishing bond levels to himself. “Well, of course, I’m not going to stop you from singing. It’ll be, uhh, good for morale, I’m sure.”

“Great, great” Taako and Lup say together, grinning like cats. “Thanks, cap.”

There’s not much time for singing, when the world ends.

**Cycle 1**

The twins shake it off the fastest, at least from the outside. They haven’t been on the animal planet long before they split off for the year, meaning Barry Bluejeans is the first, besides Taako, to hear Lup singing when she cooks their morning meal.

“D to the E to the LICIOUS, D to the E to the, to the—”

She points at a still half-asleep Barry with her spatula, who only stares at her in confusion. Taako, with a deep sigh, leans his arm on Barry’s shoulder and deadpans, “Hit it Fergie.”

That’s all Lup needs, as she launches into a fast-paced rap, looking directly at him, that has Barry just as confused and now as red in the face as the berry juice Taako is reducing for a sauce. He flees the campsite with a mumbled excuse about having to pee just to escape from her teasing eyes.

Their morning concerts as they cook breakfast are a normal occurrence that Barry almost gets used to, as the year goes on. They can never convince him to quite join in, but he learns their usual repertoire well enough to add in the background vocals, on occasion.

He never quite stops blushing though.

It’s almost normal, then, when they join back up with the crew.

And then the world ends, again.

**Cycle 6**

The sixth cycle is the first where all of them are trapped on the Starblaster for an extended length of time, the plane below being consumed with fire and dust from violently active volcanoes and sharply shifting plate tectonics.

(Davenport immediately vetoes Lup’s request to explore the volcanoes, disregarding her argument that “But Cap’nport, it would be rad!”)

This means that the entire crew is woken up every morning by Lup and Taako rocking out to their usual duets, scream-singing Dirty by fantasy Christina Aguilera and Taako’s favorite, Toxic by fantasy Britney Spears.

The first time this happens, Davenport stumbles out of his room to Taako yelling about ringing an alarm, with Lup joining in with thrown elbows. He’s already yanking on his captain’s jacket by the time he reaches the kitchen, panting.

“Lup, Taako, what’s going on?” he demands, eyes darting around for any hint of danger. “What alarm?”

There’s dead silence for a moment.

The twins are doing their usual elegant dance in the kitchen, with Barry, Magnus, and a half-asleep Lucretia at the counter, the boys providing a background beat and Lucretia taking scribbled, sleepy notes. Merle, typically, is nowhere to be seen.

“This five alarm chili I’m making,” Taako offers, at the same time that Lup finishes the chorus to point to Davenport for the verse. He just stares at her in confusion.

“So, is everything okay? Why are you pointing a spatula at me?”

“It’s a song, captain,” Lup says, retracting the spatula. “We told you we sing when we cook.”

Davenport thinks back to packing the Starblaster, and the twins’ reassurance of “classic elven melodies”. “You call fantasy Christina Aguilera a classic elven melody?”

“So you do know it!” Lup says, delighted.

“Finish the lyrics!” Magnus hoots from the counter.

“No.”

“Aww, c’mon,” Magnus whines.

“Yeah cap, it’ll be good bonding,” Barry adds.

“He can sing if he wants,” Taako says, flipping some eggs out of his skillet, Lup catching them effortlessly in hers. “Besides, this is, uhhh, a _two_ -person show, homies. We just _let_ you do backup sometimes.”

“Where we backin up?” Merle asks, walking up behind Davenport, rubbing his eyes.

“Shut up old man!” Magnus says gleefully. He starts slamming his fists on the counter. “Eggs! Eggs! Eggs! EGGS!”

“Magnus I swear to God I will magic missile your ass into next cycle.”

“I get first shot,” Lucretia deadpans, glaring half-heartedly at Magnus, staring pointedly at his fists. “If you don’t stop pounding the counter.”

Lup rolls her eyes theatrically and then winks at Lucretia. “We gotta find something you’re into singing, Creesh,” she says.

“Nothing, this early in the morning.”

“We’ll seeeee,” Lup says in a singsong voice, before launching into the first verse of Dirty again. Taako laughs and joins her, and to Davenport’s surprise, Merle jumps in at the chorus.

Of course, he’s immediately covered with thrown eggs, the twins shrieking about him never being allowed to sing again, Barry and Magnus each covering one of Lucretia’s ears, Magnus hollering loudly, but it doesn’t stop the grin from stealing over Davenport’s face.

They’re not classic elven melodies, but they’re sure not bad for morale.

**Cycle 87**

“Just to get it all out, what’s in my head—” Lup sings.

“And I’m feelin, a little peculiar.” Taako adds, Magnus joining in on the last word.

Magnus takes the next line, “And so I wake in the morning—”

“And I step outside,” Lucretia sings.

“And I take a deep breath—” adds Barry.

“And I get _real high_ ,” Merle shouts, grinning.

They all turn to Davenport.

He doesn’t even glance up from his coffee.

There’s an expectant pause, before he sighs and carefully places his cup on the table.

“And I scream at the top of my lungs—”

They all sing the next line, appropriately, at the top of their lungs: “What’s goin’ on?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact the first draft of this was written in the notes app on my phone while i was waiting at the eye doctor for 4 hours


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> taako stress bakes

Listen.

Taako, as he’ll be the first to tell you, doesn’t _do_ stressed.

Sure there’s some bullshit, about schools and cooking and _your family betraying you_ , but that doesn’t mean he gets stressed.

Doesn’t matter. He’ll just bake.

Lup comes home before her husband or her brother-in-law, tearing a hole in reality into the huge kitchen and face-planting directly into a tiered chocolate cake stretching twenty feet in the air. The impact topples the cake, sending the whole thing, including what appears to be approximately an Angus’s worth of sculpted chocolate, crashing to the floor.

“Oof,” Lup says, catching herself with levitate and looking up. “Taako?”

“Hey, Lulu,” her brother says, casting another mage hand to join the other three set at various tasks around the kitchen. One is busily stirring a simmering pot, another chopping pecans, the third carefully putting the garnishes on a tray of shimmering mirror glaze cookies that take up the entire counter.

(Lup counts these with a glance. 144.)

This fourth mage hand sets about cleaning up the destroyed cake while Lup finds her brother. He’s at the center of the mage hands and flying sweets, chocolate pieces and half-decorated cookies, flour and sugar and the odd egg (already cracked) all swirling around him. Most find their proper place, dusting powdered sugar over chocolate torte or adding the egg whites to a fluffy cream, although some bump into each other and spill over Taako. He pays it no mind, instead placing careful pieces on something she can’t quite make out.

“Hey, ‘Ko, you… good, babe?”

“It’s fine, Lup, that wasn’t even the centerpiece,” Taako says, waving her over. He’s a mess, even with his glamour up (even though no one’s home). His hair is tucked back in a messy plait, Taako Brand apron splattered with chocolate and eggs and flour, face red from the heat of the oven. “ _This_ is the centerpiece.”

He’s built a truly towering croquembouche, reaching higher than the cake Lup just accidentally destroyed. The pastry balls are tiny, perfectly cooked, with glistening threads of rich caramel. He’s placing edible flowers in small arrangements before shaking his head and taking them off, switching them out for sugared almonds and then taking those off too.

“It’s entirely filled with chocolate and pastry,” he says, not even looking at her. “This baby is solid all the way through.”

“Uh, Taako-”

“You can take over the baked Alaska,” he says. “You like setting shit on fire.”

“Uh-huh,” Lup says, staring at her brother’s turned away face for another moment. She turns and walks out of the kitchen, skirting the sixth pound cake taking itself out of one of the ovens, and goes to the portal room.

The house is enormous, of course. It’s a sprawling mansion on the outskirts of Neverwinter, technically Taako and Kravitz’s but only by sheer virtue of them being the only ones living there full time. There are rooms for everyone (including Lucretia; Taako didn’t have a say in that one), all the IPRE members, a room and library for Angus, a training center for Carey and Killian, and the various other Bureau members and other friends they’ve accumulated in their new home plane.

One of the first things Barry and Lup set up was the portal room, a large circular room that currently functions much like a front door for them. There are permanent teleportation circles between the house and everyone else: one goes to Davenport’s guest bunk on the Seablaster, another to Magnus’s “sitting room” (the puppy room), another to Lucretia’s office on the moon, yet another to Chesney’s, which they decided on the basis that Merle was much more likely to be found there rather than his actual house.

Lup stares at the portals, tapping her finger against her teeth, and then flips out her stone of farspeech.

“Hello, Lup,” Kravitz says, picking up on the second ring. “Barry said you were done with the paperwork–”

“Ghost rider, come get your husband,” Lup interrupts. “He’s stressed about something.”

“Oh?” she can hear the concern in his voice from here, and it makes her smile. Her little bro found a good one. “I’ll be right there.”

“Yeah, don’t try and portal into the-” she’s interrupted by the sound of a portal tearing open, directly followed by the glorping sound of Kravitz colliding with a round of hovering soufflés. “Kitchen,” she finishes, and saunters back in.

She leans against the doorframe, one ear flicked back to listen for the sounds of the teleportation circles activating (Angus and most of the rest of their family should be back from his soccer game any minute. It was closest to Magnus’s house, out in the country, so she listens for the sound of excited dogs and a more excitable Magnus).

“Dove, let’s talk,” Kravitz tries gently, or as gently as he can when he has to raise his voice for Taako to even hear him. He doesn’t dare the treacherous path through the floating baking supplies, still sponging at his ruined suit.

Taako, apparently deciding against any decoration for the croquembouche, ignores this, casting a cautious levitate and moving the creation into the dining room. “Well, bones,” he says, popping his head back in. “We’re good on dessert for the next, uh, week.”

“That thing is monstrous,” Kravitz says in awe. “We’ll be good until Candlenights!”

“Incorrect,” Lup says, leaning her arm on his shoulder. “Magnus exists.”

He flinches away, but not from Lup. Rather, from a tray of macarons shooting past his ear towards Taako and the croquembouche. The other desserts are either completing themselves or rising to join the chef, arranging themselves in a sugary cornucopia that cries to be eaten, and for someone to force her goddamn brother to talk about his emotions for once.

“Love, please,” Kravitz tries again, ducking a plate of artfully arranged truffles.

Lup’s ear flicks up and she elbows Kravitz in the side. “We’re about to have company.”

She’s not wrong. Four seconds later, the teleportation circle from Magnus’s house bursts to life, emitting the rest of their family in twos and threes. Magnus and Angus are first, the former balancing the latter on his shoulders. They both stink of sweat and sun, and both are grinning ear to ear.

“We won, Aunt Lup!” Angus calls from his perch.

“Ango stopped a kid from scoring a goal!” Magnus cheers. “And didn’t even have to cleave him in twain!”

“Non-lethally,” Merle adds, waddling past Magnus, arm in arm with Davenport.

“Duh,” Magnus says, swinging Angus down from his shoulders.

“Hold on, short stuffs,” Lup says, blocking the way into the kitchen, the usual thoroughfare to the living and dining room. “Go around. Ko’s… baking.”

At that, the other IPRE members look up, the same expressions on their faces. Lucretia, coming through the portal with Ren, visibly winces. “How bad is it?” she asks carefully, while Angus and Ren look confusedly between the travelers.

“Bad,” Lup says, meeting Lucretia’s eyes.

“You don’t mean…”

“Yep,” Lup confirms. “Croquembouche.”

Assorted gasps and mutters of shock sound from the IPRE, including Barry, who stepped through a rift just in time to hear Lup speak. Angus’s eyes narrow behind his glasses.

“Uh, sirs, ma’am’s, what do you mean, croquembouche?”

“Well, little man, a croquembouche is–”

“I know what it is,” Angus says, waving Lup’s explanation away. “I just don’t know why it’s such a big deal that Taako made one.”

Lup nods solemnly and waves them the long way around, although Merle and Davenport have already gone on. She leads them into the living room, where they have a full view of the crowded kitchen and Taako putting the finishing touches on his display in the open plan dining room.

“Oh, sweet,” Magnus says, reaching for a pastry ball from the bottom.

Taako doesn’t hesitate, pulling his wand from his braid and pointing it at Magnus. “Take one from the top or I will slaughter you where you stand.”

“But Taako, I can’t levitate!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Taako says, grandly addressing the entire company, save for Angus, who ran upstairs for his fantasy camera. “For you see, I as the chef get the first taste of the masterpiece.”

He pointedly ignores the looks exchanged between just about all of them, as they all know the other reason why he’s still adamant about being the first to try his own cooking, even six years after Story and Song.

He dramatically plucks a pastry from the center, about waist height, and then _shrieks_ when he gets gray beard hair with a leaf tumbling out of it.

“ _What the fuck, old man_?”

“Didn’t wanna miss the sweets,” Merle says, poking his entire hairy head out from within the croquembouche.”

“How the fuck– Taako, you said that thing was solid all the way through!” Lup exclaims.

“It _was_ ,” Merle says smugly.

They hear another snorting laugh from within and Merle shoves a few more pastry balls out of the way, revealing the mess of chocolate around his mouth as well as their esteemed captain, chocolate and pastry crumbs covering his hair and mustache, sharp eyes twinkling out at their shocked faces.

Taako gasps. “Et tu, Davé?”

“It is a tree, Taako,” Davenport says. “You know how Merle is around trees.”

Everyone backs up at that, Taako screeching again. “It’s not a real tree you fucking gremlins!” He turns to Lup. “Why.”

“Hey, it’s good stuff though, kid,” Merle says, not noticing Davenport’s eyes widening and the gnome wiggling away. A second later, the croquembouche creaks ominously and collapses in on itself, trapping Merle entirely. “Hey!”

“It’s what you deserve,” Taako hisses.

“Uh, Maggie, little help?”

“Nope,” Magnus says cheerfully. “You die in there, old man!”

They start to settle, leaving the old dwarf under the pile of pastry and caramel. Lucretia settles herself next to it, well out of grabbing distance (even if Merle’s hands are pinned).

“Ah, Lucy, come to help an old friend out?”

“So, Merle,” Lucretia says in her best Director voice, making it drip with all the gravitas she can muster (which, as everyone acknowledges, is a fucking lot). “How does it feel for your 69th death to be a result of hubris and your disgusting kink?”

Angus chooses this moment to come back down the stairs, fantasy camera in hand. He surveys the scene for a moment. “What the fuck, sirs?”

“C’mon, kiddo, it’s the usual around here,” Taako says, waving an airy hand.

“Well,” Angus says, looking doubtfully at Merle, and the still laughing Davenport behind the crumbled croquembouche. “It’s not the first dead body covered in sugar I’ve ever seen.”

“Wait, what?” say at least three voices.

“Didn’t I ever tell you about my first Candlenights Caper?”

As Angus settles in to tell the story, Lup catches Taako’s eye. He’s safely ensconced in his husband’s arms, legs thrown over Magnus’s lap. He nods, slightly.

They’ll be talking about this.

But not tonight.

Tonight they’re going to gorge themselves on sugar and listen to everyone’s stories, the ones they’ve heard and the ones they haven’t.

After all.

They have all the time they need.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: the only thing Taako ever did legally in his life was adopt Angus McDonald; discuss

Taako, y’know, from TV? doesn’t half-ass anything real.

He put nearly a year’s worth of thought into his sister’s perfect day; he threw his soul out of his body to save his best friend without a second thought; he dropped the false face to show the truth to the man he loved.

So when it comes to Angus McDonald, everything - as much as it leaves a weird taste in his mouth - everything is going to be by the book.

Three years after Story and Song. Three years of his expansive, perfect apartment in Neverwinter with Kravitz. Three years of Magnus and his dogs, three years of running a school (or, learning just how capable Ren truly is), three years of postcards and family dinners and not just a few screaming matches, because their family is far from perfect, and still healing from the fractures made even before their memories were taken.

Three years of Angus McDonald, the world’s greatest detective, not-so-slowly moving into the “spare bedroom” in the apartment.

(”Spare bedroom? Dove, you have it stocked with every book of Caleb Cleveland: Kid Cop.”  
An airy snort. “What’s your point, bones? If the kid needs a place to lay his head when he’s not teaching at the most second-rate school in Faerun, so what?”)

Three years of “hello sir!”s and magic lessons and agonizingly slowly teaching Angus the difference between a simmer and a boil.

He doesn’t tell anyone but Lup.

They show up to the government agency in Neverwinter, dressed to the nines as always in crisp matching suits. (Not that they need to. Taako, y’know, from TV? and Lup the woman of flames, they could have shown up in sacks and charcoal and the staff would have fallen over themselves to help. But. There is a brand to maintain.) They don’t have paperwork, per se, being extraplanar alien elves from a hundred dimensions away, but the Story serves as enough proof of identity.

Taako doesn’t even realize how fast his heart is beating until Lup’s hand slips into his, hers dry and a touch too hot, as always, the fire within her always dancing close to the surface.

“This looks an awful lot like that DMV from the best day ever,” she whispers as their number is called, and he laughs, the knot loosening in his chest.

The case is straightforward. Angus has been, technically, an emancipated minor since the age of nine. When Taako demands who the fuck let that happen, the clerk shrugs and shuffles the papers in front of her.

“It was a busy time,” is all she says, and hands Taako the adoption papers. “You’ll need to get his signature, and initials where marked. Have it authorized by a notary or a judge and you’ll be all set.”

“Uh, thanks, my man,” Taako says, breezy and a bit too late, needing his sister’s elbow in his side to remember to respond, the knot returning to fill his entire chest and gut when he has the papers in his hands.

Lup twirls her scythe and slashes a tear in reality back to Taako’s apartment, winking at the clerk.

The clerk doesn’t even blink.

They step through to find Kravitz, expected on his day off, and Angus, definitely _not_ expected.

“Hello sir!” Angus beams from the table, piled high with his notes and some of Kravitz’s paperwork. “Hi, Miss Lup!”

“C’mon, little man,” Lup says, ruffling his hair. “You know it’s Aunt or nothing.”

“Sounds like nothing, then ma’am!”

“Taako are you going to be mad if I crisp up your son a little.”

“You’re not crisping anything until you finish your goddamn paperwork,” Kravitz interrupts, slipping into his work accent as he shakes some papers in her face. “You’re not leaving Bluejeans to do it all for you _again_.”

“Aw, but boss!”

This exchange artfully smooths over Angus’s gasp and whispered “Son?”

Lup throws a nod over her shoulder as Kravitz steers her out of the kitchen, exchanging threatening remarks about paperwork, leaving Taako alone with a sharp-eyed Angus and a knot that’s expanded to his stomach now.

“What’s going on sir?” Angus asks, zeroing in on the papers in Taako’s hands. “What are those?”

“It’s, uh, just a little paperwork for the school, boychik, nothing to worry about,” Taako says, clearing his throat a few times.

“Sir, come on,” and Angus is almost exasperated now. He’s grown, in the three years, and he’s almost eye to eye with Taako now. “I’m the world’s greatest detective, I know when something’s up.”

“Well, Ango, I did want to talk to you, but it’s not really important, I guess,” Taako says, waving an airy and entirely unconvincing hand through the air. He lets the adoption papers drop on the table on top of Angus’s extraplanar physics calculations ( _nerd_ ), and his mouth doesn’t stop going, even when Angus picks them up. “Just thought I’d drop by, ya know, and see what was goin’ on with the whole “alien” thing, cause we’re not actually legal here, and, uhhh, that might be a problem when I’m trying to expand the ol Taako Brand, so–”

He’s cut off by Angus throwing his arms around him, and he silently thanks Istus that the boy is still short enough to fit in his arms. He blinks a few times, rapidly, when he feels the thin fabric of his breezy summer shirt dampen, and swears to ask Kravitz to dust more often. Gets in people’s eyes, and makes em water too much.

“Do you mean it, sir?” Angus’s voice is small, and he’s a ten-year-old boy again, showing up to magic lessons for the first time, and baking tasteless macarons. “Do you really mean it? It’s not a goof?”

“Well, Angus,” Taako says, pulling away from the hug even though a large part of him wants to hold Angus in his arms forever, where he’s safe. “It’s all up to you, you know. I understand if you don’t, uh, wanna be all tied down again, and if you just wanna keep it casual, just a place to sleep, but uhhh–”

“Taako?” Angus cuts him off, and that more than anything shuts Taako up.

He looks at Angus for the first time since stepping through the portal, and the boy’s eyes are full of tears, but he’s smiling bigger than when he sat up after jumping off the Rockport Limited.

“Of course, sir,” he says, a hitch in his voice. “Of course… dad.”


End file.
